Promises you weren't around to keep
by Rac4hel414
Summary: Gabriella and Troy were best friends since the sixth grade. When Gabriella goes to England for two years they promise each other that nothing will change. She returns with a completely different appearance but she's the same Gabriella. He broke his promis
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is my other new story ;) It's loosely based off of 'sorry' by the JoBros :P  
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**Author: WiLdCaTgIrL414**

**Rating: T**

**Full summary: Troy and Gabriella were inseparable ever since she moved to Albuquerque in the sixth grade. She wore glasses and had braces and was perfectly happy. At the end of their freshman year in high school, she accepts the oppurtunity to go to Cambridge for two years for some pre-college courses. She leaves, promising Troy that nothing would change. He says the same in return. Two years later, she returns transformed on the outside but clearly the same Gabriella. She's heartbroken to realise that Troy's promise had been broken. With one year until she returns to England, can he heal the wounds he caused.**

**Don't own HSM x

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Prologue

I met Troy Bolton in the sixth grade. I was new to Albuquerque and it was my second week at East Middle school. I took my seat in drama, as always, and opened my notebook. Someone yelled 'Heads up!' and I lifted my head just before an orange basketball came flying towards me.

Instinctively, I caught it. My brother's obsession had rubbed off on me and I was able to catch it before it touched my nose. I looked up and saw him staring at me in astonishment. I smiled back and passed it to him. He walked over, basketball in one hand and his notebook in the other, and stared down at me. He sat next me that day. The thing I noticed that made me want the lesson to never end was how he constantly found new ways to make me laugh. We discovered that we were project partners and we were best friends ever since.

Everyday after school, we would both go to one of our houses. It sounds silly and maybe a little repetitive but it was just something we did. I'm shy, believe it or not. I wasn't with Troy. Not on that first day and not on this day. If he's around. If I'm with anyone else, I'm the shyest person you'll ever meet.

That was back in middle school. Four years later, we're freshmen in high school, a few weeks until summer vacation. Everyone is hyping up: what with school dances, exams coming to an end and the basketball championship, there's something for everyone to do.

Especially me.

Well, it's not that I have loads to do, I just have loads of things to prepare for next year.

"Do you not think, Gabby?" Troy's voice breaks through my thoughts.

I turn my head to him and smile at the boy who is walking next to me. He's much taller than me, always has been. He's kind of lanky, too. But, he's awesome. I nod slightly. "Yes, Troy. I do think this summer vacation will be totally great. I mean, why wouldn't it be?"

Troy shrugs and grasps my hand. "I don't know. But, this summer is all about us, right?"

I sigh and nod. "Troy, how many summers have we spent together?" I drop his hand and push my front door open.

"Three." Troy answered immediately as he stepped through the doorway. He clicks the door shut behind us and we drop our bags next to the door. He takes my hand again – something which had shocked me the first time he did it – and we wander through the living room to the back yard. "But, I mean, we're in high school."

"So?" I whisper as we sit down in the large hammock which hangs between two trees. "Why do things have to change between us?"

"It's not us I'm afraid of changing." Troy says softly as he lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulders instead.

"I get it, Troy. People change as time goes on. And we've all heard the scary stories about couples not surviving high school because of the cliques. But, face it: we've survived our freshman year. The freshman year is always the worst. And you're the jock and I'm the geeky girl with braces. Troy, nothing's going to change. I promise." I say quietly, knowing that the possibility of things changing between us isn't just about cliques in high school anymore. I kiss his cheek, letting my lips stay there for longer than was necessary. The feel of his smooth skin beneath my lips leaves me feeling my heart break in two.

He smirks down at me, holding his free hand up. "Pinkie promise?"

I smile softly and hook my pinkie through his. "Pinkie promise."

Troy's smirk falls from his mouth and his brow creases. "What's wrong?" He whispers.

"What do you mean?" I avoid his eyes, knowing how easily I crumble whilst looking in those pools of sapphire blue.

"I mean," He gently lifts my chin with two fingers, "what's been bugging you all week? Ever since Monday, you've been on edge. I didn't bring it up because I thought you'd tell me."

I swallow and take a deep breath. It's now or never. "Troy, the thing is-"

"Oh, I thought I heard you." My mom's voice exclaims.

We lift our heads and see her on the decking, smiling brightly across at her. Her Latina features are highlighted by the warm, Albuquerque sun and I guess I look pretty much the same. It's uncanny at much alike we are. I sigh and give her a small smile.

"Are you guys hungry? I'm just about to make some snacks." She offers.

I blink twice and Troy and I stay silent.

My mom bites her lip guiltily. "I interrupted something, didn't I?" She asks quietly, her smile fading slightly.

I take a deep breath and shake my head. "We're just talking Mom. It's fine."

She nods slightly at me and I release another sigh, knowing what she's telling me. "I'll be inside, I guess." She goes back into the house, leaving Troy and I alone.

I get to my feet and offer my hand to Troy. "Come on. Homework is calling our names."

Troy groans as he accepts my hand but stays on the hammock. "I hate you."

I smile down at him. "Love you too, Wildcat. Come on." I whine, tugging on my arm.

He finally gets to his feet and returns his arm to my shoulders. We make our way back inside, wandering through the living room once again. "So, what were you going to tell me?"

I bite my lip. Why doesn't the boy ever forget anything I say? "Uh…" I pause while we pick our discarded bags up. "I'll tell you upstairs." I run hurriedly up the flight of stairs and enter my bedroom. I go over to my desk and drop my bag to the floor. I pull my desk drawer open and lift the large white envelope out. I turn it over in my fingers and sigh at the return address.

"What's that?" Troy asks from behind me.

I turn around and place my hand over my heart. "Troy, you scared me."

"What is it?" He presses, gently prying the envelope from my small fingers. I swallow a large lump back down my throat as he turns it over in his hands and reads the return address I had read just seconds ago. "Cambridge?" He whispers, his eyes glued to the paper. He finally lifts his head and I grip my desk for support at the upset look he gives me. "Why is Cambridge writing to you?"

I take a deep breath and walk over to sit on my bed. Troy sits next to me and, for once, he leaves my hand alone. "Troy, they're offering me the chance to go there for some pre-college classes for two years."

Troy stares at me with wide eyes. "Two years?"

I nod. "I haven't accepted."

"Why? You found out on Monday, right?" Troy exclaims. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I knew what you would say." I whisper. "I guess I just don't know what's in high school."

"Well, of course you should go. How many students are chosen?" He asks quietly, though the demanding tone is evident.

"Thirty." I reply softly.

"Bella," I feel a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth at the sound of the name only he uses for me, "that's amazing. You can't turn this down." Troy tells me sternly. "Please go. I know how much you like Cambridge. You'll be in England…so what? I'll call you, I promise. And nothing will change, remember?" He finally takes my hand and kisses it. "We'll be fine."


	2. Not so bad

**A/N: I wasn't all that happy with this chapter but I hope you like it :)**

**Don't own HSM x

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Chapter 1 – Not so bad

That summer was the best summer of my life. Troy and I were literally inseparable – the only times we did seperate were when we showered or went the bathroom. We convinced our parents to let Troy to sleepover at my house every night for the summer. We did everything: we played basketball – obviously; went swimming – my lifeguard training came in handy when I finally found something I could beat Troy at; and we just…talked. Cambridge was conveniently left out of the list of topics we chose.

We finally calmed down enough to pack my case together. He would pick out stuff that he thought I'd want and I'd pack it – both of us knew my case would be a disaster if Troy did. He would randomly kiss my cheek as he walked by and all I kept thinking about was the following week. He did most of the talking, saying how he'd write to me and call me and IM me – even if it was midnight in Albuquerque. He did, as well…at the beginning.

The following week, I had convinced myself – well, in all honesty, it was Troy who convinced me – that everything would be okay. I'd have a wonderful time in England – which I did – and we'd still be Troy and Gabriella.

That fateful Friday is, quite frankly, the worst day of my life. Now, you know that I'm smart, so I'm guessing that you think it's the worst day of my life because I was leaving Troy behind. And that was part of the reason. The other part was that Troy never showed. All of my friends gathered in my living room to hug me goodbye and there were lots of tears. My parents and my brother drove me to the airport.

Troy never said goodbye.

When we talked over MSN or on the phone, I didn't have the guts to bring it up, terrified of the reaction. He still sounded like my Troy. I thought he was still my Troy. I kept something from him though. I really should've told him. But, I didn't think it was important.

I walk over to the luggage carousel, my sunglasses still over my eyes, and tap my foot steadily as I wait patiently for my suitcase. My backpack is hanging from my shoulder and I involuntarily sigh. I'm back home. After spending so much time in England, I don't know where my home is.

I spot my suitcase and reach for it when I hear, "Hey, that's my daughter's suitcase."

I turn to him and lift my sunglasses onto my head. "Daddy, I am your daughter."

He raises his eyebrows. "You sure? My daughter wear glasses and jeans and…has braces."

I look down at my body and smile slightly. A blue floral dress hugs my torso and flares out to my knees from my waist. A white jacket covers my shoulders and my suitcase is by my feet. I look back up and shrug. "Daddy, I'm me. Gabriella Anne Montez."

"My Gabby?" He whispered in bewilderment.

Chris, my brother, approaches and raises his eyebrows. "What the hell happened to you?"

I roll my eyes and we begin our signature handshake. "It's called a makeover."

"Ha ha." He said sarcastically.

"My Gabby?" My dad asks again.

I giggle and kiss his cheek. "Yes, Daddy. It's not rocket science. Where's Mama?"

Chris picks up my suitcase and points over my shoulder. "Over there."

I look to where he's pointing and begin running. "Mama!"

My mom runs over to me and she hugs me tightly. "Oh, mi hija…" She pulls back and looks me over. "You look great."

I giggle in embarrassment. "Thank you. It was Jake's idea. It's amazing what contacts can do to a girl."

"How was it?" My mom asks.

"Amazing. I loved every second of it." I admitted as my dad and Chris approached. "So, where's Troy?" I look around expectantly. I look back to my mom as she shares a glance with Chris and my dad. "Where's Troy?" I ask slowly.

Chris heaves my suitcase up and begins walking away. "I'm in the car."

I turn to my parents and frown. "What's going on?"

* * *

I collapse to my knees under a tree in the park and lean back against the trunk. How could he do this? My best friend. He was my only friend. The only person who I wasn't afraid to just…let go and try anything. I wasn't shy. I never was around him. I wasn't simply the freaky genius girl like I always have been. I was Gabriella.

I knew he felt the same about me. After the first couple of months of our friendship, he confessed to me that he was sick and tired of being the playmaker and the basketball guy. He told me that when we were together, he was just a guy. He had other friends who he confessed could be a little annoying and I told him that they didn't know him. Not like I did.

I know everything about him…well, I _thought_ I did.

"You okay?" A soft voice asks.

I look up to see Ryan Evans – a member of the drama club – looking down at me. I'd talked to him enough times to realise that he was nice but, he's from the drama club. East High is very strict on the status quo – drama club members did _not_ talk to geeks. Somehow, Troy and I managed to survive our freshman year. I think that had more to do with the fact that Troy's father is the basketball coach and people were scared.

I nod slowly and wipe my cheeks. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Ryan sits next to me and frowns. "You don't look it."

"I take it you don't remember me, do you?" I whisper, my gaze fixed on my lap.

"Should I?" He asks unsurely.

I laugh half-heartedly. "Don't suppose you would. I was a nobody the last time I was here." I look into Ryan's eyes and I sigh softly. "Think of Troy Bolton's best friend."

"You don't look like Chad Danforth. If I'm honest, I don't think he'd wear a dress." He joked.

I giggle quietly. "Gabriella Montez. I left to be at Cambridge for two years."

"Gabriella Montez…" He was obviously mulling my name over in his mind as I look back at my lap. "The freaky genius girl!"

I look up and nod slowly. "That's me."

"I'm guessing you're upset because of Troy?" He asked quietly.

I sigh and shrug. "I guess."

"He's not worth crying over." He comments. "I've seen most of the girls at East High cry over him. You're better than that."

"That's sweet, Ryan, but I'm not crying over him. I'm crying over _my_ Troy – the Troy I left behind." I whisper, my voice cracking as I hold back the tears. "He is worth crying over."

"RYAN!!!" An angry and high-pitched voice yells.

Ryan cringes visibly and gets to his feet. "That's my cue to leave. It's nice seeing you again, Gabriella. You look great."

"Thanks Ryan. You too." I reply honesty.

I watch him walk away and lean back against the tree. It was beyond me how my best friend could just give everything up like that? That's not the Troy Bolton who I was best friends with for four years – six including the two I was in England. It was so stereotypical and cliché of a jock!

I slowly get to my feet and begin walking home in a daze. It's like my body is locking up. Waking up and seeing Troy was the one thing I looked forward to. Now that I don't want to see him, however, I feel almost numb. Like I lost…everything. He was the first person to really talk to me when I first moved to Albuquerque. He was the person who convinced me that I wasn't just a geek. He was the one person I told literally everything to without fear of judgement. He was the person who convinced me to go to Cambridge.

I walk into my house and wander into my living. I see Troy's parents sitting patiently on the couch. I manage a small smile. "Hey."

Jack stands up and hugs me tightly. "It's good to have you back, Gabby."

I pull back and nod. "Thanks."

Lucille gets to her feet and smiles sympathetically. "Did you enjoy London?"

I nod. "I loved it. It was amazing."

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly.

"In a little shock. I'll be fine." I take a deep breath and turn to see my parents and Chris in the doorway. "I'm fine."

Chris raises his eyebrows. "Sis, I know you've been away for two damn years but I still know you. You are in no way okay."

I sink onto the couch and lean my head back. I close my eyes and sigh. "He promised." I whisper.

"Well, we've tried everything." Jack admits. "It's as if he was so lost without you that he couldn't help himself."

I don't even acknowledge the possible implications of his statement as I stand up. "You know what? It doesn't even matter, okay? I just want to get this year over with and go back to England to see Johnny. At least he keeps his promises." I push past everyone and run up the stairs.

I pause outside of my bedroom, almost expecting to open it and see the room I used in London. I'd wake up any minute now in a cold sweat. I would go back to Albuquerque and Troy would still be Troy – no captaincies or popularity or girls…my Troy.

I brace myself and push my door open, groaning in annoyance at the sight of my room. Nothing in the appearance changed since I was gone. But, I notice the change. A change I know no one else would see. A few picture frames still cover the walls – I took most of them with me. My collage by my vanity was still there and I felt my eyes water as I walk over to my desk. I pick up the picture of Troy when he won the middle school basketball championship game.

He was so happy that day. And he treated me like I was their reason they won. He used to tell me that I was his good luck charm. I believed him. I truly did. His friends weren't that supportive of our friendship. No one was, really. But, we didn't care. We never did. So, why did he start caring as soon as I left?

Maybe he always cared. Maybe I was too caught up in how I felt around him to notice what he was like in school. But…our freshman year was so perfect. He didn't act like he thought we couldn't be friends…

But people change.

Did I change? I mean, I was in England for two years…a whole different continent…

I know my appearance changed – maybe that was an understatement – but I haven't changed at all. At least I don't think so…

* * *

I slow down and bend back, my hands behind my head. I'd left the house earlier this morning for a jog and I had managed to get a quarter of a mile before having to stop. I breathe deeply and reach for my iPod to change the song. I hated the thought of jogging this morning as Troy was the person to get me into jogging. It's amazing how every little thing now means so much more to me because he isn't in my life anymore. Well, I want him to be. If he's the Troy I left behind.

In my haste to escape the house to begin my jog, I had pulled some pale blue sweatpants and a plain white shirt. I finally settled on 'picture to burn' by Taylor Swift – a song with a good beat and a song that I could relate to.

The previous evening I had taken every stinking picture I owned of Troy Bolton – I owned a grand total of two hundred and thirty six – and put them all in a box and shut them in the back corner of my closet. I had considered Taylor Swift's advice of burning the pictures but I couldn't do it.

"Hello…" A deep voice says in a way which makes me roll my eyes. Obviously, despite the un-godly hour it is, some pervert is going to flirt with me.

I turn around and raise my eyebrows at Chad Danforth – Troy's new best friends. They were friends before I left for England but Troy had assured me that I was more important. I was beginning to doubt that he ever meant it. I unplug my earphones and sigh. "What, Chad?"

"You know my name?" He asks incredulously. His wild, curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail – something he often did whilst playing sports.

I roll my eyes. "Have I really changed that much?"

"I don't know. Who are you?" He asks, stretching his arms behind his head.

"You'll never believe me." I mutter. "My own father didn't recognise me."

"Just tell me your name. I'll believe you." He exclaims.

I sigh. "I'm Gabriella Montez."

"I don't believe you." He mutters.

"The guy I was staying with, Johnny, persuaded me to get contacts after my braces were taken off. Then, Kelly, one of the girls who I was good friends with, took me shopping." I shrug slightly. "I didn't realise that I wasn't the only one who changed."

"He wasn't the only one who broke the promise." Chad spoke quietly.

"I've only changed my appearance. I'm still Gabriella. I still play basketball and play the piano and listen to music and read way too much…I'm still me." I exclaim. I shake my head slightly. "Don't bother trying to defend him. I don't care anymore. I just want my senior year to be over with so I can go back to Cambridge and never have to come back here."

"You wouldn't come back?" Chad asks quietly.

"Hell no. If that's how he wants to act, that's his choice. But, I don't want to be around." I whisper.

"You haven't even talked to him yet, though." Chad says quietly.

"So? He didn't see me off when I left. And now this?" I blink the tears back and swallow the large lump in my throat.

"You might want to talk to him, though." Chad advises.

"For him to tell me that the last six years meant nothing to him? No thanks." I sigh softly.

Chad smiles sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." I smile slightly.

"You're looking great. Make a real good impression at East High." He smiles brightly.

"Thank you." I say appreciatively. "How is everyone at East High?"

"Ms Darbus is herself. Hasn't changed at all. The basketball team won the championships last year. Ummmm…Sharpay is…Sharpay. Pink, glitter, drama…Ryan is still her poodle and her own poodle dresses better than most people who go to East High." We both laugh.

My last giggle fades and I bite my lip. "That's Sharpay Michelle Evans. You're okay Chad. It seems you've changed, too."

He smiles slightly. "Well, it's called seeing the most perfect girl in the world but she's what everyone calls a 'geek'."

"Oh, Chad, that's sweet but I'm not really interested in guys at the minute." I say softly.

"No, no, no, no! I meant Taylor. Remember Taylor McKessie?" He asks and I nod. "Yeah, I've liked her for, like, a year now."

"Really?" I giggle. "Well, I have to get going. It was nice talking to you, Chad."

"You, too." He smiles broadly. "Do you want to hang out sometime? I'd like to make up those years where I was really horrible to you."

"I'd like that." I nod slightly.

"What's your cell number?" He asks, reaching into his pocket.

I take out my own cell phone and we swap numbers. "Well, thanks Chad. You made me feel a lot better than I did earlier this morning."

Chad smiles and shrugs. "My pleasure."

Maybe it wasn't all so bad.


	3. I hope you're happy

**A/N: I am so, so, so, so, so, so (I hope you're getting the picture here...) sorry that I haven't uploaded :( This chapter has been done for days but fanfiction wouldn't let me on until now :(**

**Don't own HSM x

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Chapter 2 – I hope you're happy

The following week was…strange. I hung out with Chad as often as possible – which wasn't that much considering he wanted to hang out with Troy, Jason and Zeke, too. We usually played basketball and he was clearly shocked by my skill he obviously forgot about. He confessed to me that he wasn't necessarily Troy's best friend. It just looked that way since he was co-captain and it was expected by the school.

In return, I confessed that whilst I enjoyed going to Cambridge and the time I spent in England – honestly, I did – I would wonder what Troy was doing every night before I went to sleep. The time difference made it difficult to call each other but we soon figured it out. Chad had laughed out loud. For the week we had spent hanging out together, I hadn't stopped talking about Cambridge and he found it amusing that I said Troy was the one thing I enjoyed more.

Moreover, in all the places I visited in my first official week back in Albuquerque – the mall, swimming pool, the park etc. – I hadn't seen Troy once. I was glad. The longer I didn't see him, the longer I could hold onto the dream that he was still my Troy. That everyone – even people I love – is lying to me.

"Gabriella, you'll do fine." My dad assures me.

I turn my head to my other side to face my mom. "Mom, my stomach…"

We all stop in the corridor, Principal Matsui slightly in front of us, and my mom holds my face in her hands. "Gabby, you went to Cambridge for two years. Way before anyone had to think about college. You'll do fine." She kisses my forehead.

I look to the ground and shake my head. "I won't, though. My best friend isn't there. He was the one who helped me when I was being bullied. What am I going to do?"

"You'll do fine. You've got a new look, you're smarter…Besides, just text Jake or Johnny if you're really worked up." My dad suggests.

I finally nod and grudgingly take the sheets Mr Matsui is holding out for me. "Fine. But, the second I cross the stage at graduation, I'm getting on a plane and going back to England. The sooner, the better."

"You do that, Sweetie." My mom says sympathetically.

"Jake, Johnny and Kelly will be there to pick me up." I exclaim before I walk up the nearest steps.

I walk down the hallway, looking at all the other students. Everyone is comparing schedules, talking to friends and moaning about how school has started seemingly too soon. Guys begin to turn their heads at me, their heads turning in what seems to be a ripple effect.

I tugged nervously at the white mid-thigh length shirt I had pulled on over some knee-length jeans. My pale blue book bag is hanging from my shoulder, hitting my right hip every time I take a step. My white ballet flats hardly make a noise on the corridor floor and I'm not stupid. It definitely isn't the noise I'm making which is causing the male population to stare at me.

Not that Troy is there.

He is probably at the other end of the building in a closet with some cheerleader. Get a grip, Gabriella. Stop being stereotypical. You haven't said a word to him. I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I see Ms Darbus' classroom – God, it's been so long since I was here – and I step into the large room. A few students – surprisingly, Troy included – were sat on their desks and Ms Darbus was sitting in her traditional throne-like chair, sipping some kind of hot drink.

I walk over and smile politely. "Ms Darbus?"

She lifts her gaze to mine and raises her eyebrows expectantly. "Yes, Miss…"

"Montez. Gabriella Montez." I hand her my papers and smile slightly.

"Gabriella Montez?" She exclaims dramatically.

I cringe and bite my lip as I suddenly feel eyes on me. I timidly lift my head and manage a small smile and wave. "Hi." I whisper before I turn back to Ms Darbus. "Yeah, it's me."

"How was Cambridge?" She asks loudly. Does this woman not know the meaning of inside-voices? Guess what? We're inside!

"It was great. It was fantastic. I loved it there. I made loads of great friends over there." I say softly as the bell rings. "Thanks, Ms Darbus." I take opportunity and flee her presence, dashing by the desk Troy is sitting on.

I feel a hand grip my arm and I turn around to see Troy staring at me strangely. He looks so grown up now. Not the tall, lanky, just-hitting-puberty boy I left behind. His figure is more muscular and he has filled out a lot. His six-pack is evident through his dark blue tee. His jaw-line and cheekbones are more defined. His legs look slightly longer and his hair is cut so it just reaches his ears and flicks out slightly – still dirty blonde. His eyes…his eyes are still so amazingly blue.

"Bella?" He asks softly.

I nod once. "Yeah. It's me."

"Settle down." Ms Darbus commands as she rises from her chair.

I pry Troy's fingers from my arm and smile slightly before I turn and go to the back of the classroom. I drop my bag to the floor and sit in my seat. Troy is still sat on his desk, staring at me until Ms Darbus hits him over the head.

"Mr Bolton, as fascinating as Miss Montez is, I must insist you face the front instead." She exclaims.

Troy sinks into his seat and mutters something I can't hear from the back.

Ms Darbus' droning voice is quickly covered by thinking about Troy – as much as I don't want to. How could such a…whatever guy, break such an important promise? Sure, I don't look the same but I'm still me. I swear. He should've lied to me. He should've told me that I shouldn't go to Cambridge. Then everything would be the same and we'd still be 'best friends' and I'd go to Cambridge and he'd go to U of A. But, we'd still be friends. That's got a pretty good law department.

And now I can't wait to leave the country.

I never thought I'd think like this. I never thought I'd run away from my Troy. Well, can you blame me? Honestly? He's being so superficial and shallow and low. Yes, I realise that those are all just synonyms of 'superficial' but it's true. He's being idiotic!

I look at the back of his head – which is partly obscured by Chad's afro – and sigh silently.

Thankfully, the bell rings and I grab my bag and rush out of the door before anyone else. I weave expertly through the crowds – after spending two years surrounding by tall college guys, you gain the ability to sneak through crowds.

"Gabriella!" A familiar voice yells above the other students.

The hall falls silent.

I glance around at people staring at me before I turn around to face Troy. I swallow and grip my bag tightly with my right hand. I lift my gaze from the floor and sigh. "What, Troy?"

He steps closer to me – apparently oblivious to everyone else – and touches my cheek with his finger tips. My skin feels like fire under his touch and I feel vulnerable. His gaze is so intense. Confusion. Anger. Desire? Troy Bolton would never desire me. No matter how long we've been apart. "Bella?" He whispers.

"I told you." I say strongly as I move my head to force his hand to fall to his side. "It's me."

Troy looks down, his gaze burning into my body. I shuffle my feet self-consciously before he lifts his head. "What happened to you?"

I glance around at everyone and fold my arms. I turn back to Troy and shrug. "My friends, Johnny and Jake, persuaded me to wear contacts after I had my braces taken off. Then Kelly took me to get my hair done and we went shopping."

"And…You're my best friend?" He manages quietly.

I lick my lips and sigh as the bell rings again, telling me that I'm late for AP biology. "I have to go." I say apologetically as I turn around and rush towards my classroom.

* * *

I walk slowly out of my AP math classroom, flicking mindlessly through my text book which most students would find the thickness 'vomit inducing'. Chad's words, not mine. He teased me about the size of textbooks used in my class but at the end of the day, who cares?

I stop in front of my locker and pull it open. I sigh sadly at the picture of Troy and I at our middle school graduation – yellow gowns, braces, glasses and all. We used to be so care-free, like nothing else in the world mattered. It was simply Troy and Gabriella. And everything was fine…until my future started.

Without Troy.

I shake the depressing thoughts from my head and place my books into my locker. I grab my lunch bag – East High food is not safe if I want to travel back to England and study law – and my Zune. A nice chicken salad sandwich, an apple, a banana and some apricot yoghurt.

"Hey, Babe." A smooth voice greets me.

I look to my left and smile at Troy's cousin, Jimmie 'The Rocketman' Zara. "Hey, Rocketman. What's cracking?"

"Nothing much. You new here? You know, I could show you around if you want." He offers, making me giggle.

"Rocketman, you already know me. I know your cousin." I hinted.

"Everyone knows my cousin." He mutters.

"I'm Gabriella. Remember I went to England two years ago? It's me!" I exclaim, shutting my locker.

"Gabster? It's you?" He exclaims.

I nod. "Shocking isn't it?"

"But, you look like…a girl!" Jimmie stutters.

I look down at myself and frown slightly. "Thanks…I think."

"Yo, Dion!" Jimmie yells as a short Africa-American boy approaches. "This is Gabriella. You remember me telling you about her? Gabster, this is Donny Dion."

I smile slightly. "Hey."

"You're not nearly as guy-ish as Rocketman said." He observes.

"Thanks." I mutter, shuffling my feet with nerves. It wasn't Rocketman. I've known him since I've known Troy – he and Troy were practically brothers and Rocketman was part of the package. It was Donny I was weary of. Both of them are sophomores – two years younger than me.

"How was England?" Rocketman asks.

I smile and giggle. "It was amazing. I loved it. I made a lot of friends; I learnt so much…The worst part was arriving back here in Albuquerque. I want this year to be over with so I can go back to Cambridge."

Rocketman smiles sympathetically and rests his hand on my shoulder. "He'll come around."

"You believe that?" I whisper.

"Do you?" He asks in reply.

"I want to." I admit.

"So do I." Rockman agrees. "We have to go. But, I'll see you later?"

I smile and nod as they disappear down the hall. I wander aimlessly towards the cafeteria and pause outside the doors. Troy is in there. I see him with the jocks and cheerleaders through the windows of the doors. He will approach me. Ask questions.

I can ask him questions, too. And I will.

I push through the doors and look around the place. It hasn't changed at all since I left. The drama club ate on the upper level, the jocks just by the door, the geeks beside them, and the skaters on the other side of the jocks. In the year I spent at East High, Troy and I never once spent lunch in the cafeteria. Well, we did during the first month. A month after our first day, Troy had found the rooftop garden which the science club uses. Troy and I ate there ever since.

I sigh. I could sit with Chad. Or Ryan – although Sharpay, his twin sister, scares me. But, I'd have to confront somebody I'm not ready to either way. I shudder slightly at the thought and rush over to an empty table as far away from the jock table as possible. I sit down, my back to them, and turn my attention to my Zune. The sooner music fills my ears, the better.

The ear buds are soon in my ears and I scroll through many songs to find the perfect one. Recently, 'picture to burn' was my most listened to song but I want to change that. I'm sick and tired of feeling depressed because of some guy. No matter if we used to be best friends or not.

I settle on 'sneakernight' by Vanessa Hudgens. A song with a good beat, but in no way is it depressing. If anything, it had the opposite effect. I'm not a huge fan of dance music but I love her songs. People even say I look like her.

I change the volume until I can't hear the noisy cafeteria but I won't harm my hearing and then I turn to my brown paper lunch bag. I open it and bring out my sandwich. I look at it sickeningly. I haven't eaten a proper healthy lunch since I returned from England. The only times I ate the way I _should_ was breakfast and dinner: when my parents and Chris were around.

I take a tentative bite and feel my stomach growl with satisfaction. I take a much larger and more satisfying bite and sigh in happiness. Johnny had rung me yesterday morning – it had been evening in England – and I had successfully avoided telling him how much my previous life has changed.

I feel someone tap my shoulder and I sigh as I take my ear buds out. I twist around and groan silently. I look at the floor, praying for my visitor to leave. "What?" I whisper.

"May I join you?" Troy asks quietly.

"Sure," Damn my overly-nice nature, "why not?" I turn back to my lunch and put one ear bud in again – there is no way I am talking to Troy without music at all. _If_ we talk.

Troy sits next to me and I shift slightly so that our legs will in no way touch. He opens his brown paper bag and takes out his sandwich. We take bites out of our sandwiches at the same time and I concentrate on the music playing. I set my sandwich down and reach for my water bottle. I take a mouthful and the put it down again before I pick up my sandwich again, poised to take a bite.

"Are you mad at me?" Troy asks quietly.

I stare at the lunch table in front of me and put my sandwich down. I take my ear bud out and wipe my hands on my jeans. "Should I be?" I whisper, my eyes still focussed on the table.

"Well, if you are, I can be mad at you, too." Troy points out as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I jerk my head upward and frown. "What? Why? If I am, hypothetically, mad at you, why would you be mad at me? What have I done?" I cry quietly. Whether Troy has changed or not, I don't want him to be mad at me!

Troy shrugs slightly and then gestures to my body. "Are you completely oblivious? Hell yeah, I should be mad at you. My Bella would never dress like this."

"Your precious Bella went all the way to England to begin studying law, something _you_ told me to do. I was going to stay here and go to Cambridge when I graduated. I couldn't bear to be away from you. But, you convinced me to go. I grew up. So what?" I ask quietly, my gaze locked on his.

Troy shifts slightly. "Are you sure it doesn't just make you feel beautiful?"

I roll my eyes and take another bite out of my sandwich. I swallow and shrug, my eyes not daring to look into his. "So what if it does? So what if I do want to feel beautiful? Is that such a bad thing? Maybe I want guys to see me as more than the freaky genius girl."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Troy exclaims. "You had plenty of opportunities. I called you every night. Well, morning for me."

I lift my head again and swallow the lump which is slowly forming in my throat. "I didn't think it was important. Who gives a damn if I suddenly wear contacts and skirts and blouses? I'm still me. I play the piano, I read books, I write, I want to be a lawyer and I don't hate anyone in this world. Not even you. Chris says that I should. And that I shouldn't give you the time of day. But, when I see you, I see my best friend. That's all. He deserves my everything."

"You sure you haven't changed?" Troy asks sarcastically.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." I whisper. "I swear, I kept our promise. But, you tell me: should I be mad at you?"

Troy averts his gaze to his lunch. He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. "Bella, you said it yourself: you grew up."

I take a drink from my water bottle and set it down again. "And…" I prod.

"I've grown up, too." He mumbles.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. I laugh lifelessly and turn to him. "So you grew up in a day?" I ask curiously.

"What?" He mumbles in confusion.

"My last day." I speak slowly and he turns back to the table. "You didn't see me off. So you must've grown up in a day."

"Bella, don't do this." He whispers.

"I'm not doing anything." I exclaim. "But, while I was bawling my eyes out, saying goodbye to your parents and your cousin, where were you?"

Troy shrugs. "I don't remember." He mutters.

I nod slightly and run a hand through my hair. "Okay." I whisper. "Can I ask you one last thing?"

Troy lifts his head. "You can ask me anything you want."

"Did I mean anything at all?" I whimper embarrassingly at the thought of Troy forgetting me. I grip the table edges tightly, trying to fight the tears I know are coming. I close my eyes and feel a tear run down my cheek anyway. My eyes spring open and I rush to rub it away.

Troy nods slowly. "You meant everything to me."

"And the promise we made? No matter what you say and how many times you say it, I'm still me. My appearance does not change the way I am. And high school doesn't have to change you. The Troy David Alexander Bolton I left was much better than that." I say strongly.

His eyes flicker downwards and then back to mine. "I'm guessing that sorry isn't going to cut it, is it?"

I take his hand hesitantly in my own and sigh. I look at our touching skin and interlock our fingers. I kiss his palm and feel my bottom lip tremble. "I so want to believe you. I want to believe that you haven't changed. But you have. And maybe someday, sorry will be enough, but I need to think about it and settle in. I mean, I want to learn to drive, too. Troy, you don't know how much I've missed out on." I kiss his palm again. "But, no matter what, I am always here."

I drop his hand and grab my Zune, lunch and water bottle. "I trust you Troy. I hope you're truly happy." I force a small smile before I turn and head towards the exit.

I didn't lie.

I never lied.

I hope Troy is truly happy without me.


End file.
